


He Remembered It Vividly

by rickxmortyshipper



Category: Rick and Morty, c137cest - Fandom
Genre: But he gets nicer, M/M, Mortys distant, Rick is an Asshole, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, depressed!Morty, explicit content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-18 12:36:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12388206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rickxmortyshipper/pseuds/rickxmortyshipper
Summary: Morty's always been depressed. He's at the verge of suicide, but then an odd old man appears in his life, leaving him confused. Will Morty decide to live for Rick or will he give up?





	1. A Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> soooo this is my first chaptered fanfic so bare with me.  
> also there's explicit descriptions of self-harm so if that's disturbing or triggering, PLEASE DO NOT READ.  
> but anyway, enjoy!

The first time Morty had cut himself, was when he was 12. He'd remembered it vividly; running off the bus, shutting himself in his room, sliding down the door, his butt hitting the ground as tears slipped down his cheeks. He had cried for hours. He knew he was an awkward mess. He knew people at school didn't want anything to do with him. He knew his crush, Jessica, would never look at him anymore than a friend. He knew his parents would never notice, they always argued, never noticing Morty when he comes down for dinner but never touches his food. He remembered it vividly; the blood trickling down his wrist, the relief of feeling something. He had grown addicted to it. He grew addicted to the feeling of the painful shard slicing through his skin. He grew addicted the feeling of the hot liquid pouring down his arm.

Morty chucked dryly, remembering that day like it was yesterday. Although it'd been almost 2 years since it happened, he remembered it.

Morty sat at the dinner table, Beth and Jerry bickering about something Morty didn't care to listen to. He glanced at Summer who typed away on her phone, probably texting some friends. Summer had always tried to be popular, tried to fit in with the cool kids. Morty wondered if she'd ever been bullied. If she'd ever felt how Morty did. He wanted to ask but he didn't want the feeling of someone knowing about his emptiness. So he kept quiet.

All the sudden, a flash of green appeared in the wall the left of Morty, making him jump, dropping his fork he was using to push around his food.

Beth gasped. Morty glanced at her. Tears were slipping down her face, her hands were shaking.

"Dad?" She gasped.

Morty gave her a confused look, but when he turned to see what she was talking about, his eyes widened.

***

An old man, probably around the age of 70, stood in the kitchen. Pastel blue locks stuck out in every possible direction on top of his head. He wore a light blue sweater, tucked neatly into his too-small khakis, a clean sterile labcoat on on top, reaching to his knees. He wore worn out, black shoes, and he could spot the white socks around his ankles. He was very slim, very lean. His grey skin, wrinkled in every inch of skin that was in view.

Morty cocked his head. Did his mom just call this man dad? Where did he come from? What was the green thing he walked out of?

"Sweetie, it's nice to- burp- see you again!" the old man, sounded a little too enthusiastic, almost sarcastic. Beth was already out of her seat, hugging him tightly. The old man groaned in pain, but lightly pat her back to show some sort of affection.

"Listen, honey, can I- burp- talk to you in the other room for a- burp- minute?" Beth nodded her head furiously, escorting him into the living room.

Morty looked at Summer who was already looking at him, the same confused look as he had. She shrugged, going back to her phone. But Morty couldn't help but feel curious. He tried to listen to what his mom and the mysterious man were talking about, but all he heard were mumbles, like how the parents in Charlie Brown talk.

Jerry, Summer, and Morty waited quietly, until Beth and the man came back in the kitchen.

"So, um, Morty? Summer? This is your Grandpa Rick! He'll be staying with us, so be welcoming please," Beth said, trying to sound confident, but her voice faltered, making it sound more like she was begging instead.

Summer spoke up first, "Hey, can I just call you Rick? Since you know, we don't really know you, and you haven't really been a grandpa to us."

"Summer!" Beth scolded her.

"It's okay Beth, I understand the confusion. Yeah, you can call me Rick. It's not like I'll be around much any- burp- way," Rick chuckled dryly.

Morty still stayed silent, eying Rick carefully. He didn't know how he felt with this weirdo staying in his house. Morty had high anxiety, still had trouble in school, and well... was really depressed. Rick caught Morty staring at him, so he decided to speak up for him.

"And what about- burp- you? Morty was it? You got a- burp- staring problem or something?" Rick eyed Morty up and down, making Mortys eyes cast downward. He felt his cheeks flush. He glanced up at Rick and he was smirking at him. He pulled out a silver container and leaned his head up to swallow the contents in it.

"M-mom? Can I-I be e-excused?" Morty cursed himself for his stutter. He hated it, but he wanted out of this situation now.

"Yeah, of course sweetie," Beth cooed, kissing his head as he slid past.

Morty locked the door behind him as soon as he went up the stairs. He didn't realize he was holding his breathe until he got in bed. He gasped, sucking in all the air he could. He felt lightheaded but quickly shook the feeling off. He leaned over to reach for a bag in his drawer. The small blades in the bag looked more inviting than ever.

He pulled out the largest one he had, his fingers gently running over the cold metal. He pulled his sleeves up, noticing there were no clean spots, every inch covered in a nasty slice. He sighed, pulling his pants down, and settling on his thigh.

Morty angled the blade inward and felt the sharp pang in his leg. He staggered a breath in and moved the blade outward, creating a nice, oozing cut. Blood spewed out, messing up his sheets, staining them a dark crimson color. Morty sighed. Relishing in the pain was the only way he could escape. He leaned over his bed, grabbing a cloth, wrapping his cut so he wouldn't stain the mattress too bad. He slipped off his day clothes and into his PJs. He shut the lights off, heading to sleep, but he heard a sharp knock on his door.

"Morty? Let, let me in!"

Mortys eyes shot wide open.

Why was Rick knocking on his door?


	2. I Don't Need Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick decides he needs help with his science. So he goes to the little adolescent boy but discovers Mortys intentions...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry that the chapters are so short! i'm working on getting longer chapters soon! it's a bit of a cliffhanger, whoops :')

Morty froze. Why was this man, who he didn't even know existed an hour ago, knocking on his door, asking.. no, demanding to let him in? What did he need so badly from him?

Morty really didn't want to get up, especially now his thigh was throbbing and still leaking crimson red, even through his pajama pants.

"Alright, fine. I- burp- know you teenage boys lock your- burp- doors so you can masturbate so I'm coming in anyway. I don't- burp- wanna see any of your pubes, so cover your shit before I come in," Rick murmured. He sounded bored, but then heard a slight whirring noise & he heard his lock break.

Morty's pulse quickened, he quickly covered the blood stains on his sheet below him with the thick blanket next to him.

Rick pushed opened the door, smoothing his lab coat and brushing off one of his shoulders in one swift motion. His face looked just as bored as his tone, but contorted in a disgusted look followed with a, "Oh my g-god! You were masturbating!" noticing how Mortys hands were over the blanket, over his lower half.

"W-Whatever, listen, I need your he- burp-lp with something really quick," Rick focused his eyes on Mortys face who refused to look at him. His face was flushed dark red. He noticed his legs trembling and his arms twitching violently over the blanket. 

Rick cocked his head. Why was this kid so embarrassed he caught him masturbating? So what? The average male teen does it on a regular basis, so why was this kid hyperventilating like his life depended on it?

"What's wrong with you- burp- kid?" Rick stepped a little closer, making the boy grip the blanket even tighter against himself. He made a small grunt of pain from pushing too hard on his wound. Rick narrowed his eyes, not in a mean way but more in concern. What was wrong with him?

Rick took one more step closer, now noticing a small blood stain near Mortys thigh.

"Shit, are you okay?" Rick walked quickly towards Morty, kneeling down, trying to lift the blanket off of him.

"Don't," Morty sounded nervous, but his voice was stern like he meant it. His eyes locked with Ricks, he tried to look demeaning but he just looked exhausted.

"Morty, what the hell- burp- is that?" Rick pointed at the blood stain on his sheet.

"Just leave R-Rick, it's n-n-none of y-your business!" Mortys voice raised, sounding scared.

Rick sighed. He didn't know if he should leave the kid here and pretend like he didn't see anything or help him. He didn't know the kid for fucks sake. But he was his grandson and if he was bleeding that hard, he had to help him, whether Morty wanted him to or not.

"Lets go," Rick removed the blanket roughly from the kids grasp, almost gasping at the amount of blood over his pajama bottoms. But his face expression remained calm, he picked up the boy bridal style, and shot a bright green portal in the wall, straight to the garage.

Morty tried to mumble a weak 'stop it' but he couldn't find his voice. He felt his eyes widen but his vision was getting darker and darker. He looked up at Rick but couldn't see him. He felt his body being picked up, saw a faint flash of green before his vision completely blacked out, body going limp.


	3. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morty doesn't realize how much his life is going to change from here on out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long to write! i've been pretty busy with my own life & i think this chapter is a little longer, but anyway, enjoy!!

Morty felt pain before he could even open his eyes. He felt a searing hot jolt in his upper thigh. His vision was still black, he felt like he was already dead, but he couldn't be. You can't feel pain when you're dead... can you?

Morty heard a muffled voice speak, but he couldn't make out the words of the unknown entity. He tried to groan but his throat was dry, like sandpaper, pain skidding down his throat when he tried to swallow. 

Morty wanted to die. He hoped he was dying. Death couldn't be possibly worse than the remarkable pain that seared through his whole body. He laid still, paralyzed. He wanted to move and scream, but his body wouldn't budge.

He felt his eyelids getting lighter, allowing him to glance through the slit of his eyelids. There was a throbbing pain inside his eyes, wanting to shut them but he forced them open.

The first thing he noticed was a grey color. His vision was a bit fuzzy but he knew he was looking at the ceiling. He heard a distant 'finally you're awake, i thought- burp- you'd never wake up, kid'.

Rick?

Then he remembered.

Rick had saw his cut on his thigh. Morty didn't realize how deep he actually cut until he felt his conscious slipping from within himself.

Oh no. First impression (well, sorta second) to his grandfather whom he'd never met knows about his darkest secret. God, what was he going to think of him now? Was he going to tell mom?

Mortys heart stopped. No, he couldn't tell the rest of the family.

Morty shot up, pain erupting from every nerve in his body. He took deep breaths, coughing due to the dryness in his throat. He gagged, face turning bright red, trying to get as much air in his system as possible.

"Hey, h-hey, easy kid, relax," Rick approached him, placing one hand on the small of Mortys back, and the other on the back of his neck to keep him steady.

Morty sputtered, finally catching his breath.

"Wa-Water," he croaked out.

Rick nodded fast, scooting Morty so he could be propped up against the wall as he went in the kitchen.

Morty groaned. His head was pounding. His stomach lurched sickly, and his thigh was throbbing. He looked down at the red gauze wrapped around his thigh. He realized it was supposed to be white when Rick came back with a tall glass of water.

Rick placed his hand on the back of Mortys neck, tilting his head back and lifting the cup to his mouth. Morty greedily swallowed all of the water, his throat immediately soothing.

Morty looked at Rick. He was staring pretty intensely at him, making Morty squirm metaphorically, and he tried looking at anything else except Rick. An awkward silence grew between them, as neither of them knew what to say. Finally, Rick spoke up.

"L-Listen, kid-"

"It's M-M-Morty."

"Right, Morty. You know you- burp-can't just do things like that, right?"

Morty looked down.

"Your mother told me to check on you. She was worried about you, Morty. I agreed to get you and maybe get you to help with my science- burp- shit."

Morty, still silent, looked up at Rick who had a small yet comforting smile on his face. You could barely see it, but it was visible if you looked close enough.

"S-Science?" Morty cocked his head, confused.

"Yeah, I'm a scientist. Not- burp- not only am I a scientist, but I'm the smartest man in the universe." Rick bragged, he had a bored expression on his face but his eyes sparkled with some excitement.

"W-W-Wow! C-Can you show me some s-stuff?" Morty briefly forgot about his wound on his leg.

"Sure, kid, but- burp- first, we need to clean you up. Now hold on," Rick paused, going through a large cardboard box on the floor and pulled out some new bandages and a syringe.

Mortys eyes widened with fear at how large the needle was.

"R-R-Rick, th-that needle is h-huge!!" Morty exclaimed, trying to scoot back, his eyes flooded with tears.

"Hey hey hey, Morty, relax. Grandpa won't hurt you. This is going to make your- burp- cut go away within an hour, trust me, you'll be glad- burp- once I stick it in."

Morty gulped, nodding, but his body shook tremendously.

"Here, hold my hand, squeeze as hard- burp- as you can if it hurts too much."

Rick removed the over-bloodied gauze on his cut and he didn't realize how deep he'd cut until he looked at it, clear as day. His stomach lurched and a hand flew up to his mouth to keep from vomiting. The cut went in at least half an inch if not a full inch, and he could practically see the skin on the sides throbbing and thumping, blood still leaking profusely down the sides.

"Ready?" 

Rick looked up at Morty, same small smile painted on his lips and Morty nodded, relaxing a bit.

Morty felt the pierce of the needle on his thigh and he let out a small squeak, followed by a painful moan when he felt it sink into his flesh. He gripped Ricks hand hard. Tears formed at the edge of his eyes and his nails digging into Ricks ashy palms. Then he felt a cool sensation in his veins, the liquid spreading throughout his entire leg and up his thigh. He left out a soft sigh, relaxing, the pain in his leg immediately disappearing. Sweat rimmed his forehead, but Morty felt better. Amazing actually.

"W-Wow! That stuff is l-like magic, Rick!"

Rick smiled at the kids enthusiasm.

"I invented this serum myself, Morty. And if you think this is impressive, wait until you- burp- see what we'll do tomorrow," Rick smirked a little, seeing the excitement in Mortys eyes.

"What a-are we going to do?"

"You'll see."


	4. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mortys excited for his new adventure! Afraid he'd slept in too late, he rushes downstairs to find Rick just to find something... intriguing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright sorry for the hold up guys, i've been dealing with personal issues & i'm sorry this is so short but it's something.. enjoy!

Rick sent Morty in his room to get some sleep. It had been 6AM by the time he'd finally fell asleep. He was way too excited about this "adventure".

What was it gonna be like? Was his weird grandpa a wizard? A god? There was no way he invented that serum by himself.. was it possible?

By the time Morty woke up, it was dark outside. Glancing at the clock on his wall, he realized it was already 2AM, the next day.

"Shit!" Morty hissed. He was gonna be late! He quickly stood up, noticing the very deep cut he'd created on his thigh not even a full day ago, had disappeared. It vanished.

'What?'

Ignoring his amusement, he pulled up his jeans & slid his signature yellow tee over his head. He grabbed his shoes, slipped them on and quietly sneaked out of his room. He was about to head into the garage when he heard a noise in the room across from the garage. That was an extra room that no one owned and Morty realized, he'd never been in there.

"H-Hello?" Morty crept towards the door. He heard a nasty burp followed by a broken 'fuck'.

Rick?

Morty turned the knob and opened it silently. He peeked inside and saw Rick, sitting on the edge of a small cot with forest green sheets. There was a rather large green bottle in his left hand. Morty could see his eyes screwed shut, like he was concentrating on something. Morty was about to step in when he heard a low moan come from his mouth.

Morty froze.

"F-Fuck yea.."

Morty felt his face turn red and he began to sweat profusely. He wanted to turn around and lock himself in his room. But he stayed and watched him.

Morty saw his right arm bouncing up and down. Faster and faster. He watched in awe at his grandfather. 

Sweat trickled down the side of Ricks cheek. Rick had his bushy blue unibrow furrowed, his eyes still squeezed shut. His mouth was opened slightly, saliva dripping down his chin, small broken breaths escaped his mouth. His spikey blue-grey hair stood up, a slight blush rose from his cheeks as he got closer.

Morty didn't realize how... attractive his grandpa really was. The sharpness of his jawline, the slight subtle on the lower half of his face, the sound of his moans..

'God, what was he doing???'

Rick stumbled back slightly on the cot, dropping the green bottle on the floor, his hand gripping the sheets below him, his head fell back a bit, moaning louder and louder. Morty now had a clear view of Ricks penis and god.. it looked so good.

Ricks hand expertly tugged at himself, thumb swirling over the tip, earning a dark groan from Rick and precum leaking down the side of the long and thick length of it.

Morty gulped, noticing his own dick was harder than a fucking rock. He snuck his hand down to touch himself over his jeans and he almost.. almost moaned but he bit his tongue before he could.

"Ah, a-ah! Fuck!" Rick moaned, his voice trembling slightly, and thick lines of white covered his hand and his blue sweater.

Morty knew that was his cue to leave immediately. He creeped back up the stairs, shutting his door behind him.

Morty tugged his pants off, leaving his bare on his lower half, his dick sprang out deliciously ready for friction.

Morty settled in his bed, pulling out lube, coating his fingers. He turned around, his face smashed into the pillow, ass in the air. He teased his hole with his finger and imagined it was Rick teasing him.

He knew he was gross for thinking of his grandpa seducing him but he couldn't help it. He was harder than a rock and needed release.

Morty moaned loudly into his pillow as he slipped a finger inside himself.

"F-Fuck, ahhhh," Morty was vocal as hell and never realized how loud he really was but he didn't care.

Morty lifted himself, back against the wall, finger still up his ass. He stroked his length fast, just wanting release as soon as possible. He added another finger, sinking down on his two digits, pumping furiously. He got close, his face flushed, ready to cum.

"Ahhh, R-Rick!" Morty moaned, but at the exact same time, he heard a knock on his door.

Fingers still in his ass and him still stroking himself through his orgasm, Rick burst through the door.

Morty threw the sheets over himself as quickly as possible, turning beet red.

Rick stared at Morty, not grossed out, but in amazement. Morty, still red, looked away.

Rick just heard Morty moan his name. He wanted to shrivel up and cry and wished Rick didn't save him from his cut.

But Rick didn't say anything about what he just walked in on, just a simple, "Are you ready for our adventure?"

'What?'


	5. Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick didn't realize how important Morty was to him until.. well, you'll find out...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, sorry guys for the hold up. i'm in another city with my friend & i've been a little drunk hahahaha but this chapter is definitely longer, so i hope you enjoy!

"Hey Morty! I wanna show you- burp- something really cool in the gara-"

Rick was cut off by the sight of Morty with two fingers lodged as deep as they could go in his ass, his face smashed into his pillow, shaking from pleasure. He didn't seem to notice Rick entering the room so he continued as Rick just stood there, mouth agape.

"Ahhhh, Rick p-please f-fuck me... HARDER RICK," Morty practically screamed into his pillow, oblivious to the old man standing not even five feet away from him.

"M-Make me cum grandpa, f-f-fuck, please make me-"

"MORTY WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

Morty jumped so hard, he fell off his bed, head first, face slamming against the carpet, leaving a nasty burn on his face.

"R-R-Rick????" Mortys face burned from embarrassment, he felt like his head was gonna explode.

He glanced at Ricks face for a split second, the horrifying glare made Morty want to puke. He shook violently, trying to take deep breaths but couldn't.

"Morty, what the FUCK is wrong with you? Masturbating to your own flesh and fucking blood?? I'm your mothers father for fucks sake!! You can't just expect me to act like I never saw this! You know what, Morty? I felt bad for your suicidal ass but now I see how fucked up you are and you're going to deal with your nasty ass fetish elsewhere, no more fucking adventures, fuck it," and with that, Rick turned, slamming the door behind him.

-

Morty shot up, sweat dripping from his face, his blood going cold. He gripped himself for dear life, nails digging into his skin.

It was a dream. It was all just a stupid dream.

Morty sobbed, head hung low in his hands.

He couldn't risk losing the most important thing in his life. He had to stop. He didn't want to lose him. He needed to push his thoughts so far back that it wouldn't ruin his relationship with his grandpa who probably already had a clue that Morty touched himself, MOANED his name so loud that Rick definitely heard it. Rick knew. And he was going to leave Morty.

Morty, still shaking, slid his hand under the mattress to find the smallest blade he owned. It was small but it was much sharper than any blade he has. He set it on his wrist, pushing down gently, and gliding it smoothly across his pale skin. The sharp sting made Morty sigh in relief, he felt blood trickle down his wrist. He took in the feeling of that sharp pain, his wrist throbbing. He loved that feeling. It was addicting. He wanted to feel more. He then pressed the cold metal with more pressure, slicing deeply into his vein.

Morty gasped, feeling blood spurt out, he looked down but couldn't see from it being pitch black in his room. He tried to stand up, but fell over on his floor, collapsing.

He felt the feeling, once again, of his life being torn away from his slowly dying body and he relished in it.

A small smile traced his lips as he fell into complete darkness. 

***

A day had passed since Rick asked Morty if he was ready for an adventure. Morty had nodded his head yes but ended up puking everywhere and Rick suggested he slept that night and they would go the next day. Morty had agreed and Rick hadn't had a single minute sober after he had locked himself in the garage.

Rick tinkered with something in his garage, waiting for the right time to go barge into Mortys room for their very first adventure. Rick goofily smiled to himself, his veins drenched in alcohol. Rick had to get drunk for this adventure. He couldn't think straight when he was sober.

He remembered the night he got drunk and masturbated to Morty in his room. He remembered hearing footsteps skit up the stairs after he had cum. He remembered hearing a door shut upstairs. He remembered cleaning himself up and immediately going to confront Morty about stalking him and most importantly, had WATCHED him masturbate. Even though Rick didn't have room to talk since he just masturbated to Morty, it still made him feel odd. He couldn't explain the feeling. But he loved and hated it at the same time. He remembered slowly making his way up the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. He remembered hearing Mortys muffled moans. He remembered how attractive it sounded, so sweet and soft. He remembered thinking how hard he would've gotten if he hadn't just came two minutes earlier. And then he remembered the loudly executed moan of his name slip from the boys sweet mouth. He'd remembered it vividly.

He knew he couldn't just back out from the adventure he promised the kid. So he broke the lock, walked into a red, sweaty, flustered Morty, clear as to what he was just doing and Rick tried not to groan at the sight, but instead asked Morty if he was ready for the adventure. Thank god Morty had puked because Rick needed some time to get his head on straight before he knew what to do with his own feelings. He didn't know what he was doing or why he was doing it. He was stuck.

So here Rick was, drowning in alcohol, getting ready for an adventure, preparing himself for the events to come.

Finally, Rick gathered the courage to get up and waltz his way up the stairs. He knocked on Mortys door, hearing complete silence. Not even snoring.

Rick opened the door, it was pitch black, and he squinted, trying to find the boy with his eyes instead of just turning the lights on. He walked forward, tripping over something on the floor, face slamming down. Groaning, he looked down to find Morty, wrist cut open, bleeding out.

"Oh god, oh god, fuck Morty," Rick stumbled out. Now he wished he hadn't gotten sloshed before heading up here. He grabbed a bandana from one of his pockets in his labcoat and tied it tightly just below the wound to stop the bleeding. Tears stung the corners of his eyes, realizing he was probably the reason for this. Morty knew Rick heard him. The poor kid probably over thought himself.

"FUCK," Rick screamed, tears openly falling from his eyes.

"Dad?" Beth came in the room, flipping the lights on. "Oh my god dad!! What happened? JERRY CALL 911 NOW!"

Jerry stumbled in, rubbing his eyes, but immediately ran to the phone when he saw Mortys almost lifeless body on the floor, his chest rising and falling in a fast pace.

"Morty, listen to me bud, you're gonna be fine, you're gonna be alright," Rick choked through sobs, trying to gain some calmness in him but he couldn't. His heart was racing, his mind churning with regret. He should have never came here. He knew this was a bad idea. He just knew it. He couldn't take it anymore.

He lifted his weak body, lumbered through his chaotic daughter and her dumbass husband. He didn't even acknowledge their desperate screams for help. He felt numb, both from the alcohol and the sight of his real Morty dying in front of his eyes. He didn't acknowledge nurses and cops rushing past him, up the stairs, yelling instructions to Mortys frantic parents. He caught of glimpse of Morty, his skin draining from color by every passing second. His seemingly lifeless body on the white cot.

Rick rushed into the garage, locking the door behind himself, falling to the ground, his hands below him, sobs leaving his cotton mouth. He found a half-full bottle on his side, probably old and stale but it would work for now. He chugged the whole half in several gulps, coughing intensely, the stale liquid burning his throat. He coughed and choked and sputtered so hard, he puked large amounts, everything going dark until blackness covered his eyes.


End file.
